Till the Stars Come Down is not only a vital, electric piece of theatre but a rare and resounding tribute to the lives and voices of working-class women over 30, who remain so strikingly underrepresented on stage.
Writer Beth Steel’s natural dialogue is sharp and consistently hilarious. It is clear to see where she has drawn inspiration from and her script is a delicious blend of Kay Mellor, Sally Wainwright and even Victoria Wood.
The humour is often driven by Aunty Carol (played by Dorothy Atkinson), who has no qualms being unflinchingly open and honest with the younger women in her family. “It’s not the hair on your head going grey you need to be worried about when you get older,” she says, deadpan, to the amusement of teenager Leanne (Ruby Thompson).
Meanwhile, Maggie (Aisling Loftus) sets the tone with the first belly laugh of the play, describing how an ex-boyfriend used to look at her “like I was a potato in a famine”. And it is the shifting dynamics between her and sisters Hazel (Lucy Black) and Sylvia (Sinead Matthews), whose wedding day we are witnessing unfold, that makes Till The Stars Come Down so vivid and compelling.
Sylvia, the sort of woman who could be described as “away with the fairies” but also kind and open-hearted, is marrying Marek (Julian Kostov), a Polish immigrant. Set in the East Midlands, an area underscored by the closure of the pits and rise in immigration, this union is accepted but not exactly celebrated by the wider family.
When Marek offers Hazel’s husband John (Adrian Bower) a job working for him, his wife dismisses the idea out of hand (“They’re giving us jobs now, are they?”) and, for a time at least, her prejudice is left to hang in the sticky summer’s air.
And this is where Steel’s storytelling is so divine. On the surface, this is a quick-witted and warm comedy but there is an undercurrent of prejudice and resentment, only exposed by the harsh climate that was and is Brexit Britain. For older siblings Tony (Alan Williams) and Pete (Philip Whitchurch), this ill feeling spans decades and is deeply embedded in the politics of the region.
There are echoes of The Hills of California but Steel’s play is even more real, even more stripped back and even more visceral. Every performance from this talented company is both intricate and nuanced, while the staging, with the audience sat on stage as guests of the happy couple, brings an extra layer of intimacy to the point of being uncomfortable.
There is such a desert in the West End when it comes to giving a genuinely three-dimensional voice to working class women of a certain age and the National Theatre should be commended for commissioning what has proven to be the gold standard in finding that representation.
Make no mistake, Till The Stars Come Down is a state-of-the-nation play in its own right but its earthy dialogue and natural familial dynamics are a credit to both Steel and director Bijan Sheibani.
Till The Stars Come Down is playing at the Theatre Royal Haymarket until 27th September. For ticket information, see here
Review: Tom Ambrose Photos: Manuel Harlan